


You'll Have to Take Us Both

by Pip_n_Flinx



Series: What Lay Behind Us [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Combat, F/M, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22539232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pip_n_Flinx/pseuds/Pip_n_Flinx
Summary: A very canon accurate retelling of an early encounter from "Wild Hunt" between Triss and Geralt in Novigrad.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Triss Merigold
Series: What Lay Behind Us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1621771
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	You'll Have to Take Us Both

**Author's Note:**

> An early version of this went up on tumblr as a long text post a month or more back, this version has seen one more round of edits and revisions since then, and is technically a little longer. Still a shorter chapter of a larger work. I wanted to stay true to the game at the beginning, mostly as a jumping off point for the rest of the story I wanted to tell.

For the second time that day, Triss felt her heart skip a beat. She was certain Geralt would step out of their way. Hell, she wasn’t even sure why he had agreed to help her in the first place. She’d even wondered if it were pity, though it seemed a stretch for The Butcher of Blavikan to be feeling pity for a jilted lover. He had slept around entirely too much for her to suspect that.

It had hurt to let Bedlam see old wounds reopen. She should have schooled her features, not that it would matter now. Staring down three men ready to drag you off to be tortured put some of that emotional anguish in perspective. Geralt had found Yennefer again, and she might well have ruined her friendship with both of them.

Shaking her head, Triss gathered herself. Plenty of time for reflection and regret after she escaped the warehouse alive. She should have listened to him, Geralt seemed to have a sixth sense for staying alive.

“Stay out of it, we’re here for the witch.”

“We’re inseparable, see? You’ll have to take us both.”

Make that three times today my heart has skipped. Triss shouldn’t have been surprised. Geralt had been known to risk his life to save that little guy, whether they be elf, dwarf, or human. It was part of what made him so hard to let go of. Despite the guilt, she sincerely hoped it was more than just a turn of phrase.

“Geralt…”

She meant to tell him to leave, to find Ciri and live a happy life, but after the hiss of his name escaped her lips he looked back and quirked a half smile, half smirk before turning back to the men barring their exit.

“If you say so.”

“Alright. We’ve talked. Do what you gotta. Just remember… I can’t help but get in your way”

“Heard enough from this whoreson.”

“As have I.” Brandon replied “Neither is to leave here alive.”

As the merchant stalked out, the men unlimbered their swords. The mage hunters offered vile and wild battle cries as they raced towards them. Geralt, on the other hand, was silent but for a grunt when steel first met steel. The brawniest of the hunters had met Geralt crossguard to crossguard. The fool. Triss heard a grunt, then the man stumbled back leaving himself open as he cursed in pain.  
As a second came charging at her, and Triss realized the third was turning, trying to catch the witcher unawares. It looked like he was about to hamstring Geralt, and Triss leapt into action. Ducking under the swing of her own attacker, she threw a ball of fire towards Geralt and his would be murderer, hoping to catch the thug off guard. Throwing herself forward, she dashed to put distance between herself and the whirling blades before turning and lighting her assailants pants on fire. A delaying tactic, but one that bought her enough time to appraise the fight once more.

Geralt had run the first thug through, taking advantage of his open guard to plunge his sword in the man's belly. She spared a moment to wonder how Geralt had broken his guard so easily, realizing by the awful angles of the man’s leg that Geralt had kicked his knee out from under him. It seemed she had bought him the time he needed to even the odds. As he removed his sword from the thugs ribs, turning to face the most devious of their adversaries, Triss turned her attention to the one rolling on the ground.

Pants no longer ablaze he cursed her for a whore, and a cheap one at that. “You should have run while you had the chance!” Triss rejoined, bringing all of her focus to bear. She pictured heat. Flames a mile high and ten wide. Her breath deep, feeding air to flames within. You could feel the magic burning within you and Triss reveled in that for a time, letting it build to a fever pitch. A simple incantation. Elder tongue rolling from her lips, her eyes blazed. Flames lept. And where once there had been a man, now there were only ashes.

Slightly drained, she turned towards where she had last seen Geralt. She was pleasantly surprised her breathing was still fairly normal. Six months of running for you life and hiding had left her feeling frail, but her reflexes and endurance seemed intact. Small blessings.

Geralt had all but dispatched the last attacker. The thugs eyes darted this way and that, blood oozing from a deep gash in left arm. Wild eyed, he lunged, but not for witcher. She could hear the tip whistle as it streaked through the air.

Triss was shocked he had the presence of mind to go after the sorceress with Geralt directly in front of him. Gasping, she threw flames in between them, barely more than a line of sparks. She feared it was not enough, and couldn’t help but flinch, her eyes closing for a time. She opened them to find his head was on the floor, body collapsing right after it.

Blinking slowly, Triss looked at the witcher standing behind the body. She barely had time to process that he had returned the favor by saving her life before he was wiping the blade down on the dead man's trousers, sheathing the sword with an impressive flourish.

“Duped and trapped like a child...” Triss admitted shakily. “If not for you...”

But Geralt merely nodded, lips set firm. It shouldn’t surprise her really. She wasn’t feeling much like talking herself, and Geralt had always been reticent. Extra adrenaline in his system was unlikely to make him more talkative, even if he did seem less shaken than she.

“We need to find Brandon.”

Again, barely a response, but this time he gestured to the door behind him. Triss spared a moment to worry about his curt manner. It made it hard to believe his comforting words earlier…

She followed the witcher out onto the street, her former employer was not far away, leaning against a wooden fence. He startled when he saw them emerge, and Triss thought she saw a moment of hesitation. Calculation, perhaps. Pondering if he could outrun an angry sorceress and her potent monster hunting ally. Geralt stalked over to him, his first words coming out in a low growl She couldn’t make out as she swept up beside him in a rage all her own.

The merchant was begging. She wondered if he would have begged her, had Geralt not been here. She suspected he would not, since he knew she dared not use magic in a public space. It was satisfying to watch Brandon grovel, cathartic even. Geralt had been silent since his sword was first drawn. The sword was in its scabbard, but now the witcher was beyond angry.

“Shut up. I should kill you. Thing is, you’d be no good to anyone but the gulls as a corpse. So you’ll live, and pay us double. Now.”

It was chilling to hear that tone. At least the witcher’s ire was directed elsewhere. She was startled to hear him demand extra pay. It made sense, but it hadn’t even occurred to her yet. Strange, a year ago she would have demanded more than a full coin purse for an attempt on her life. Now, she barely had the presence of mind to confront her employer. And she was letting Geralt do the talking! Wonder of wonders.

After Brandon paid up, she turned to face the Witcher. “Thanks, Geralt.”

“No need. Glad I could help.”

Life no longer under threat, they turned to Geralt’s purpose. Though he expressed skepticism about the prophetic powers of dreams, he listened as she described where to find Corinne. Oneiromancy might not solve the mystery, but at least it was some place to start. Before they parted ways, Geralt turned back and surprised her once more.

“What if I want to find you?”

“I live in the bits, near the fish market.” Then her heart got the better of her “Stop by. It’d be nice.”

“Alright - see you later.”


End file.
